Party's Over
by springtime22
Summary: This Harry Potter lives in a world where Lord Voldemort hasn't existed... yet. Growing up as a 2nd generation marauder has enough problems without the Chambers of Secrets being opened while he's supposed to be worrying about OWLS. Having a psychopath as a classmate only adds to troubles. AU. 5th Year.
1. Graveyard

Chapter One: The Graveyard

Nothing interesting ever happened in Godric's Hollow.

Harry watched the boring, empty streets from his bedroom window and decided his parents had picked the only magical village in which nothing exciting ever happened to live. He opened the window to let in the summer night's cool air before turning back to his friends.

Ron and Neal, fellow Gryffindor soon-to-be fifth years, were locked into a game of wizard's chess, sitting across from each other on Harry's crimson and gold decorated bed. A knowing grin plastered on Neal's face, a twisted expression of concentration from Ron. Harry knew how this would end.

He tuned out his friends while he let his mind race with possibilities for the rest of their evening, but as easy as it was to put Ron and Neal in the background, the voices drifting from the downstairs dining room were impossible to ignore. Below Harry's room, the Marauders were arguing about Quidditch, drinking Firewhiskey, and playing a card game Harry didn't fully understand.

He and his friends had been sentenced to a night in his bedroom after Harry was caught trying to smuggle some of the Firewhiskey away, and while he counted this as only mildly frustrating setback to a fun evening, it was still irritating to hear his dad and his friends having fun when he wasn't even allowed to leave his bedroom.

It was in that moment he decided. As a cool breeze floated through the window to tease him and a particularly loud laugh from his godfather Sirius assaulted his ears, he knew he'd never be able to have a good time within the four walls of his room.

"Let's get out of here," said Harry, interrupting the postgame bickering between Ron and Neal. Both boys looked back at him with questioning glances.

"And go where?" asked Neal, one eyebrow raised. "This place isn't exactly overflowing with possibilities."

"Used to be," Ron said, "Lots of old and ancient wizarding families used to live here. Even Dumbledore –"

"Thanks, _Granger_," Neal rolled his eyes and leaned against the bedpost, tossing a chess piece between his hands. "For the recited bits of useless information."

Harry smiled as Ron glared at the other boy, who seemed unconcerned. But no matter how useless Neal considered it to be, Ron's contribution had given Harry a promising idea.

"We could go to the graveyard," Harry suggested, "it's supposed to be haunted."

Neal brightened up immediately, grinning. Ron shrugged.

"We can go out the window."

"We could walk out the front door," said Neal, "And they wouldn't noticed. They sounded wrecked."

Harry didn't correct his friend, but he knew better. Both James and Sirius were well accomplished Aurors, two of the best in the Ministry, and years of catching dark wizards had made their senses sharp, even in an altered state. He knew they'd have to be careful with their escape attempt, no matter how they left.

He was onto of his desk with his legs hanging outside when the door opened.

"Harry, do you…What? Where are you going?"

His little sister, Holly, stood in the doorway with her hands on her hips, looking every bit like his mother Lily, with the exception of her dark black hair. Harry mentally sighed and swung his legs back inside, planting them back on the floor and rising up from his desk.

"We're just going for a walk."

"You're going to get into trouble, _again_," said Holly.

"Only if we get caught," said Neal.

"Because you've got such a good track record of getting away with things." She shot back.

"She's got us there," Ron admitted, looking thoughtfully at the open window, as if he were rethinking their late night adventure.

Holly turned her attention back to Harry. "Do you just sit around in here all day thinking of ways to make mum and dad mad at you?"

"We're just taking a walk," Harry repeated, as if it were no big deal, because in essence, it wasn't. "How mad at me could they be for a walk? We won't even be gone long." He lifted himself back up onto the desk. "You won't tell on us, will you?"

"I'm not a snitch," she said, "But I'm not a liar either."

Harry nodded at her in understanding before she disappeared, shaking her head. To her benefit, everyday activities like going for a simple walk could get blown up into a huge event when it involved Harry and his friends. Trouble seemed to follow Potters around everywhere they went, and as he made the jump from his window, Harry knew tonight would be no exception.

* * *

The names on the graves behind the church were unfamiliar, and their inscriptions, like everything else in Godric's Hollow, boring. Harry walked between graves, reading names, recognizing only two and only because it matched that of his current Headmaster: Dumbledore. He had never given thought to the idea his Headmaster had once lived in his hometown, it never really interested him.

"Harry! Neal! Look at this!" Ron called out from the opposite end of the graveyard.

Harry glanced over and saw Ron had picked up an old sword from one of the tombstones. He slashed it around through the air as both Harry and Neal approached quickly.

"Don't you have any respect for the dead?" asked Neal, before snatching the sword right from Ron's hands. "You were holding it all wrong. It's like this!"

Harry rolled his eyes. He tried to steal it away from Neal, but he avoided him by leaping up onto a tombstone. "And you know so much about swords?"

"Course I do! My dad –"

But whatever Neal was about to say about his dad, Harry never found out. He jumped down from the tombstone just in time to avoid a jet of blue light, which kept going and put a rather large hole in the church building behind them. Neal landed on his stomach and the sword slid through the dirt.

"Bloody hell!" Ron ducked down behind a nearby grave, while Harry kneeled down next to where Neal had landed.

"Are you alright?" asked Harry.

His friend nodded, but it did nothing to stop Harry's heart from racing. Whoever had shot the jinx at Neal wasn't being friendly. Had the shot been successful, Harry had a funny feeling Neal would have been seriously injured.

In the distant a crackling laugh sounded, and was followed by a voice that said, "I think you got one!"

Harry's heart beat faster and faster, but he was able to keep panic from taking over completely. Using a grave as a shield for his body, he put his back against it and turned his head around to get a good look at their attackers. Three dark, hooded figures were making ground on them, more quickly than Harry liked.

Immediately his hand found his wand in his back pocket. Being a self-proclaimed second generation Marauder gave him all sorts of enemies at Hogwarts, and he had learned the hard way to never leave unarmed. Luckily for him this lesson was strong enough to work even when he wasn't at school, even when he wasn't technically allowed to use magic.

"We have to make a run for it," said Harry.

"Into the church," added Neal, pointing to the door with a tilt of his head. "We'll never make it back to your house. It would give them open shots."

"On the count of three…One…"

The boys got into running positions, low to the ground, breathing hard.

"Two…"

Another bolt of blue light hit a tree nearby, this time booming loudly. Harry hoped it was enough noise to bring the attention of James, Sirius, Remus and Peter. If they were sober enough…

"THREE!"

Harry sprang to his feet and ran as fast as he could, forcing himself to look straight ahead at the church doors instead of backwards at the source of the spells. Unfortunately this did more harm than good as his foot caught a branch and he fell back into the dirt, inches away from hitting his head on a tombstone as he fell.

"Harry!" Both his friends had shouted as name, and he could hear their footsteps backtracking to help him up. By the time he was back on his feet, the three attackers were so close, it'd be almost impossible for any their jinxes to miss.

Turning his head back, Harry shouted, "Protego!" It created a Shield Charm so powerful it was able to block three opposing spells before disappearing, effectively giving him and his friends enough time to safely make it into the church. Once the boys were inside, they wasted no time finding a spot to hide.

Harry slid under a pew, seeing no better hiding place. Everything inside the church was silent except that of Harry's breathing, which he tried and failed to control. There wasn't anything to do but wait, wait for the attackers to find him or wait for them to give up and move on.

When he heard slow and steady footsteps enter the church, he began to run a list of defensive spells. As the feet grew closer and closer to his pew, Harry was sure he had been found. Their attackers, or at least one of them had spotted him, and Harry tensed, preparing himself for a fight.

Before Harry could even think of what to do next, a hand reached under the pew, grabbed Harry's arm and pulled him to his feet. His instincts fought the stranger, but a rush of relief spread through Harry when he saw the stranger's face.

"Sirius," Harry breathed deeply, perhaps the first time since the attacks began. "I'm so glad to see you."

"Harry?" Sirius was just as confused to see him. "What are you doing here?"

He opened his mouth, but closed it again, finding it difficult to tell Sirius the story without first explaining about the graveyard and what they were doing there. The threat of his random attackers were gone, but now the lesser threat of getting trouble had been realized.

Harry hated it when his sister was right.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading!

More Harry and his family, and then lots of Tom Riddle in later chapters!


	2. Piece of Cake

Chapter Two: Piece of Cake

"Explain."

Harry sat on the opposite side of the dining room table from James and Sirius, who both hadn't said much since discovering them in the church. The walk back home had been painfully awkward, and as much as Harry tried to use that time to think of a better story, he found the early hours of the morning broke his imagination.

"We were in the graveyard –"

"-Why?" James cut him before he could get to the part about the first jinx nearly knocking Neal off a tombstone, and suddenly Harry found himself envying his friends, who were sitting comfortably in his bedroom while he was left with trying to explain what had happened.

"Why what?" asked Harry.

"Why were you in the graveyard?" Sirius clarified, because James couldn't be bothered with answering questions he was sure his son already knew.

"Oh," said Harry. "We were… bored."

"You were supposed to be bored," said James, irritated and tired. He was rubbing his temples again. "So bored you actually went to sleep… like I had asked you to."

Harry frowned, but didn't say what he was thinking. Instead, he moved on to the next part of his story. "Anyway, once we got there, those wizards just started throwing spells at us. I don't know why… we weren't doing anything."

He expected one of them to find fault with his story. It even sounded ridiculous to Harry that he and his friends should be shot at for simply standing around in a graveyard after hours. He had never been in a duel with other wizards before, at least not outside of school, where the stakes were higher. Harry was more than a little bothered by it.

"Probably Muggle hunting," said Sirius, seeing Harry's expression. "A stupid hobby. We saw them back off when the Shield Charm was cast."

"Who casted that, by the way?"

"I did."

"Well done, it was very good," said James, catching Harry off guard.

"You're not mad?" Harry asked hesitantly, as if the compliment was a trap.

"For defending yourself and your friends? No. Never," he said, "for putting yourself in unnecessary danger just to entertain yourself, that's a different story."

Harry found this a little difficult to take, or at least he did when he came from the same man who turned into an unregistered Animagus at his age, in order to run around with a fully blown werewolf. Unnecessary danger was the way of Gryffindors; it was the way of the Potters, and he didn't feel like James could deny him of his house or his DNA.

"The graveyard isn't _usually_ dangerous."

"After hours, it can be," said James. "Why do you think your mother and I don't allow you to run around at night?"

Before Harry could answer, an owl came soaring through the last open window in the Potter house and deposited a letter on the table before flying away again. With a sigh, James took the letter and opened, skimming it only a few seconds before tossing it the nearby trash can, filled with bottles of Firewhiskey from the Marauders visit. It was then it occurred to Harry that his father may have been agitated more due to the sobering up process, rather than his decision to jump out a window.

"Your warning," he said, "From the office of Improper Use of Magic."

"That's all that happens?" Harry felt a rush of excitement. If all that happens is a simple warning letter –

"The first time," said Sirius, interrupting his thoughts and crashing his growing enthusiasm. Only two more years, he thought, but to him it seemed like an eternity.

James stretched and yawned, pushing his chair away from the table as he did. "It's time for bed," and just as Harry had thought he had gotten away without consequence, he added, "We'll talk about this again tomorrow, after I fill your mother in."

Lily, who had slept through both the Marauder's drinking and scuffle down at the graveyard, was still peacefully asleep upstairs. Harry could only imagine what her reaction was going to be, but he didn't have any energy left to worry.

After saying goodnight to his dad and Sirius, he forced himself up the stairs and into his bedroom, where his friends were already passed out asleep. Since Neal had stolen his bed, Harry grabbed one of the sleeping bags on the floor without compliant. He was so tired, he could have slept on concrete without noticing any difference.

* * *

The next morning breakfast was served after Harry's friends had gone home, and he was sure, despite Ron's wishes, Molly had been notified about their late night adventure. Lily had sent a letter to Neal's parents too, but he wasn't concerned. They were Muggles and lawyers and didn't bother themselves with things in the magical world, not even their son.

His friends leaving early had been a condition of him being grounded, something that had started as soon as he had opened his eyes from a restless sleep. He couldn't say he was surprised or angry. Even if James had decided to be lenient, Lily would have insisted otherwise.

The rest of the day went on like any longer Sunday, boring. Harry didn't have Holly to bother either, as she and Lily had left to go school shopping, something which he avoided as if it were a terrible death sentence. Shopping in general wasn't that bad, but when his sister was involved, it became a process which took the entire day.

"Harry," he heard his dad calling him from his office, as he walked by on the way to his bedroom. "Come in here for a minute."

He back up a few paces, and stuck his head in the door. His dad's office was a confusing mix of Quidditch posters and ministry issued wanted posters he kept on the walls as trophies. There weren't a lot of dark wizards who could avoid capture once James Potter or Sirius Black had put on their case.

"You didn't happen to get a good look at any of those men from last night, did you?"

Harry shook his head, slowly realizing part of James' frustration wasn't caused by sobering up process or that fact Harry was out of bed, it was that the Muggle hunting group of wizards had gotten away.

"I didn't think so," said James, "It'll just make things a little tougher."

"You're going after them?" asked Harry. "I don't even know what they looked like…how do you even know where to start?"

"It's not as difficult as you would think. Just some guesswork and looking at things like signature spells and the way they worked their wands." He looked at Harry with a grin. "Piece of cake, really."

Harry nodded, and left his father to his work, returning to his own bedroom. A calendar above his desk marked the days left until he began his fifth year at Hogwarts, and now, the days he had to endure being stuck inside the house. Only two weeks remained. Two weeks and he'd be back with his friends at school, a thought which was far more appealing since being grounded.

With a sigh, he got out his school books. He might as well start on his schoolwork. After all, the summer was almost over, and he had already checked on his bedroom window, it couldn't be opened even if he had Hagrid's strength backing him up.

He strongly suspected some Charm work was involved.

* * *

A/N: Next Chapter picks up a little bit and will include teenage Tom Riddle. Thanks for reading!


	3. Things Forgotten

Chapter Three: Things Forgotten

Flourish and Blotts, much to Harry's advantage, was a shop with many aisles, stacked up to the ceiling with many books. Despite how it appeared from the outside, it proved to be large and roomy, big enough for Harry to lose his family and stay clear of any other Hogwarts students who also found themselves purchasing school supplies.

He enjoyed being social, but sometimes, especially on crowded days like this one, he preferred his space. Managing to dodge James's watchful eyes and sneaking away from a conversation with Holly led to his temporary freedom. His escape route was the stairway to the second floor.

He pushed past the bestsellers and crowds, eventually finding some secluded aisles in the back of the bookshop. Unsorted books were piled along the shelves and walls, covering the windows and blocking any sunlight from peeking through. Dim and much, much quieter than the back-to-school bustle taking place on the floor below, Harry found his sanctuary.

As he wondered through the dusty aisles, he learned exactly why they remained so lonely and forgotten. Boring or outdated titles lined the shelves, most of them seemingly about cooking, cleaning, or the prevails of keeping a yard cleared of magical critters. Harry couldn't even imagine Mrs. Weasley reading any of these.

But as he moved deeper into the back of the store, the titles faded from home care to subjects Harry found slightly disturbing. _Curses your Enemies: Dark Magic for Dark Souls _and _Unexplored Magic for Daring Minds _were just a few that popped out to Harry. He frowned and scratched as head, confused. A place like Flourish and Blotts selling guides to perform Dark Magic was news to him, and he briefly thought about what James would think of it.

His dad's intense hatred for all forms of Dark Magic led to his successful career as an Auror, and had undoubtedly influenced Harry's own take on the subject. Curious to see what he could find, he blew the dust from the spine of an odd green colored book, and when it cleared, silver letters shimmered, even without proper lighting.

Harry bit the bottom of his lip, standing on the tip of his toes and reaching his hand out to retrieve the book titled _Herpo the Foul: Journey to Immortality._ Before he could even brush a finger against it, however, he was stopped.

"Potter."

He leveled his feet back to the ground quickly, bring his hand to his side as he did. He hoped, perhaps in vain, Tom Riddle hadn't seen him looking at the questionable and possibly dangerous books the shelve held.

Regaining his composure, he nodded at him, almost politely. "Riddle."

The boy, who was a Slytherin in Harry's year at Hogwarts, stood at his same height. He had dark hair, too, though while Harry's stuck out in wild directions, Riddle's always remained neatly combed. His clothes were nice, but clearly secondhand. Harry noticed small frays and rips, feeling a sudden rush of pride that his parent's insistence to keep his wardrobe up to date. There did seem to be something out of place about Riddle, something new…

"Nice ring," said Harry, off-handedly. He pretended to put his full attention back onto the books, an obvious hint that Riddle refused to take.

"Thank you," he replied, smiling pleasantly. He rubbed the top of the ring while he wore it. "It's a family heirloom I only recently discovered, passed down from generations ago, I suspect."

"Don't you live in an orphanage?" asked Harry. He could imagine what his mum would say if she overheard him ask such a rude question, but didn't feel any guilt in the slightest for asking. When it came to Slytherins, he cared little about social correctness.

Riddle didn't seem offended. "Ah, I do, but I spent my summer tracing my magical heritage and found the ring in the ruins of an old family home. You see, Potter, it's extremely important to know where and who you came from. It's only then you can know where you're going. But, of course, you'll already know all about that."

"Do I?" A careless response, but Riddle continued despite Harry's lack of interest to continue the conversation.

"I saw your family downstairs," he explained. "Your father – you look just like him, he's an Auror, isn't he? And your mother, a Muggle Relations official. You could say the Potter family has a legacy and devotion to the protection of Muggles."

Harry's attention turned from the books at once, and he finally looked him in the eyes. "Got a problem with Muggles, Riddle?"

"No," said Riddle, his voice dripped with amusement. "You misunderstand. My father was one, after all. It makes us allies, don't you agree?" He didn't give Harry enough time to answer. "It'll be interesting, I think, to see what you'll stand for, who you'll defend… with influences like yours. That's all. I meant nothing by it."

Harry narrowed his eyes. He was beginning to get the feeling Riddle knew something he didn't know, that these words were said in anticipation rather than friendly chatter or the curiosity which he claimed. Behind Riddle, James came into view, spotting Harry and beginning to approach them.

"Well, Potter," he said, suddenly in a hurry. "I better be off. The orphanage has a rather unfair curfew…" He walked straight ahead, past Harry, and keeping his back towards James as he left. "See you at school."

"There you are," his dad said, still moving towards him. "Who was that?"

"Just someone from school," said Harry.

He wished he could explain the odd exchange he had just experienced. At school, he and Riddle maintained a civil relationship. Not enemies, not acquaintances, and certainly not friends. They both held a high status within social circles, and leaving Harry feeling comfortable ignoring his presence rather than dealing with it. But now it was different. This interaction made him feel as though things were about to change. He sighed, deciding it wasn't worth thinking about. After all, what could disconnected and orphaned Tom Riddle do to him?

"Oh," said James, checking his watch. "Ready to go? We're due at lunch…"

Harry nodded, and felt his stomach rumble at the mention of food, though his eyes wondered back to the top shelve of the bookcase. "Hang on, I have to show you something."

He scanned the area that he had first seen the mysterious green book, but couldn't find it. Even stranger than that, he found he wasn't even able to recall the title. It was as if the book had never existed in the first place. After five minutes of searching and no results, Harry stared in disbelief. Where had it gone?

"Harry, what is it? You're mother and sister are waiting."

"There was this book," said Harry, feeling stupid. "It was about… well I don't really know what it was about…"

James laughed and pulled him away from the dust covered books. "Come on, a little bit of food will help you sort it out."

Harry left the lonely and now deserted aisles without protest, but with much confusion. As he followed along after his parents and sister through the crowds in Diagon Alley, he debated whether or not Riddle had taken the book. He had been acting strange, saying strange things and Harry didn't think it could be a coincidence. There was a problem with this theory though, a gapping one at that, which was Riddle wouldn't have been able to take the book without Harry or James noticing.

He remained buried in thoughts about Riddle and mysteriously missing book until they reached the restaurant where the smell and promise of a delicious meal replaced all worrying thoughts he had. A family lunch with stories and laughter killed any surviving worries or questions. Soon his interaction with Riddle at Flourish and Blotts had become just as forgotten as the books they had spoken by.

* * *

Up in his bedroom, Harry piled all his new school books and supplies into a corner of the room, too lazy to start packing. He'd start tomorrow night, the night before he'd be leaving for his fifth year of magical education. He found it both terrifying and amazing he was already halfway through his schooling. In just three years, he'd be graduating and moving towards a career.

And as if Lily and James had been tuned into his thoughts, he was called downstairs to the dining room. A thick copy of a horrible book called _O.W.L.s: A Comprehensive Study Guide_ lay in the center of the table and Harry immediately wanted to bolt back to the safety of his room. He sat down in one of the chairs, knowing he wouldn't make it halfway upstairs.

"What's that?"

"That," said Lily, "Is going to prepare you for your O.W.L.s this spring."

James pushed the book towards Harry, who looked at it as if it were diseased with Dragonpox. He pushed it back in the center of the table.

"I don't need it," said Harry, confidently, channeling his godfather Sirius. "I know all that rubbish already."

James covered a laugh with coughing fit after receiving a look from Lily.

"It's time to start thinking about the future, Harry," said his mum, "And if you don't go into your O.W.L.s knowing what you want to do, you better start studying everything. You don't want to find yourself limited to careers you won't like."

Harry knew Lily was right, but he didn't see a need to study. He got good marks in his classes. He even did alright in Professor Snape's DADA class, and the man hated him. Why study if he could ace it just fine with no preparation? With a complying smile at her, he took the book from the table and upstairs to room.

It wouldn't hurt him to pretend to study. He put the overly sized study guide away on his desk and remembered how badly he had teased Hermione Granger for carrying the same book last year.

"What are you doing, Granger?" he had asked her. She had been curled up on the couch by the Gryffindor fireplace, quills and ink bottles surrounding her. "We've still got ages until we have to worry about O.W.L.s."

"Only a year," she replied, refusing to even look away from her book while she talked to him. "It'll be here faster than you realize."

Granger had been right, but Harry didn't regret his lack of foresight. His fourth year wouldn't have been much fun if he had been worrying about studying, and since he was looking forward to spending his fifth year the same way, he left his study guide to gather dust by removing it from his desk and sliding it under the bed, intending to forget about it completely.

* * *

A/N: Thanks to everyone reading, reviewing, following and favoriting this story!

For the next update, depending on how long it takes to write, I'm going to try and post revised versions of chapters 1 and 2. Revisions for those chapters will come eventually, but I won't quit continuing the updates in favor of them, so it's whenever the timing works out.

Reviewing helps me know what to work on and where you guys think the story is going, so ya know, if you have something to say... Review!

Thanks for reading!


	4. Beginning of the End

Chapter Four: Beginning of the End

"Write us every week, okay?" said Lily, giving Holly another hug. Harry and James lifted their luggage onto the train, and shortly rejoined them on the platform. "You too, Harry."

He stood on the tip of his toes, looking in every direction, before allowing Lily to give him a quick hug. Only James noticed, chuckling lightly at his observation and receiving an indignant look from Harry. He hated being mocked, especially by his parents. To add to his horror, Lily made a move to fix his shirt collar.

"You look… so grown up," she told him, smiling proudly. Had she been weepy when she spoke, like a lot of other mothers Harry had witnessed at King's Cross, he might have been embarrassed enough to flee and board the train early. However, there was a certain strength her voice held, even when she said cheesy things Harry would mock his friends for if he'd overheard their parents.

Sometimes he found himself wondering if he had inherited his mum's strange strength and overwhelming kindness, or if he was purely James's carbon copy, made for showy bravery and unmerited cleverness.

"Grown?" James repeated, a hint of amusement. "Our grave-robbing son? Never."

"Very funny," said Harry, narrowing his eyes once more.

The train roared a warning whistle and the last students remaining on the platform began to disappear from their parents, boarding the Hogwarts Express at last. James said a few words to Lily that Harry couldn't quite catch, after which his mum bid a few more goodbyes before stepping back through the barrier.

Seeing her friends, Holly gave James a quick hug from the side and raced off to be with them, yelling as she went, "See you at Christmas!"

"Not so fast," said James, halting Harry's move to follow his sister. He watched with rapt attention as his dad pulled a tiny book from his pocket, which tripled in size once it made contact with the outside air. "I found this under your bed."

"Why were you looking under my bed?" asked Harry. It was the first thought that popped into his head. Did James make it a habit to search for contraband there? He made a mental note to find a better, less foolish, hiding place for his things.

James grinned in response to his question. "I've been fifteen before, Harry and us, we're a lot alike. Which is why I won't let you make the same mistakes I did."

"Daaad," said Harry, exasperated. Leave it to his dad to get one last lecture in. "You don't have to – I'll study, okay?"

"I'm not _just_ talking about the O.W.L.s," James pressed on, but then sighed. It was almost as if he were about to say something extremely important, but chickened out. "Just… just take it easy this year, will you? Your mother worries."

Harry nodded, relieved to have dodged an uncomfortable conversation. Behind them, the train roared again.

"And take this," said James, pushing the dreaded study guide back into Harry's possession. "I bet you could get more O.W.L.s than both me and Sirius, if you tried."

"And if I do?"

"We'll see," he said, he titled his head towards the train. "Better be off, though, or you'll never make it to Hogwarts to begin with."

"Right," said Harry. After spending so many hours in his bedroom wishing Hogwarts closer, he suddenly felt sad to leave. He glanced back at James one last time before stepping up on the train. "You and mum, you'll be around for the first Quidditch match?"

"Couldn't keep us away."

With this knowledge, a smile and a wave, Harry pulled himself onto the train. Only moments later, the Hogwarts Express moved towards its destination, and he set off through the halls, looking for the compartment his friends occupied. Saying quick hellos to classmates as he went, he finally found Neville, Ron and Neal.

"Harry! There you are!"

"Took you long enough…" said Neal, "We've got to start planning."

"We have the whole train ride to plot," Harry took a seat next to Neville, across from Neal and Ron. Carefully, he put his O.W.L.s study guide face down in the seat, hoping his friends wouldn't notice.

Neal was, of course, talking about their start of the term prank on the Slytherins. They didn't normally make it tradition to begin the year this way, but last year less than fair Quidditch loss against the Slytherins had inspired the wrath of the Marauders. The four had left their fourth with determination and hope of sweet revenge. Well, at least three of them. Neville didn't care much either way.

"Maybe we shouldn't go through with operation destroy Slytherins," said Ron. Neal turned his head so sharply Harry thought he might have injured himself. "Don't you guys think that's a little played out?"

"Since when?" Harry asked with one eyebrow raised.

"Since…" said Ron, "This is our fifth year, we've got O.W.L.s and career advice sessions…"

"You don't care about any of that rubbish," said Harry.

"I do now," Ron insisted, though his voice wavered as if he weren't really confident with his own words and then he said something Harry were almost sure had come directly from Percy's mouth. "It's time to start taking things seriously. We'll be on to a career soon."

Harry stared at him with a hard expression. Something wasn't right, but he couldn't pinpoint what it was. Neal appeared to be too flabbergasted to say anything at all; Neville seemed to be the only one with any real idea of what was happening.

"In other words," Neville said, looking up from the magazine he read and turning the page. "Ron's got the Prefect badge, and is now taking advice from Percy."

"No," said Neal, shaking his head, "Ron can't be a Prefect. He's a Marauder – one of us. Dumbledore would never –"He stopped mid-sentence as a bright pink Ron reveal a shiny new badge, one with a big letter P on the front. "You're Dumbledore's spy!"

"What?" said Harry, unable to keep himself from laughing. He straightened up after realizing his friend was serious. "Neal, that's ridiculous. Dumbledore doesn't need to spy on us."

"Think about it," he continued, despite being laughed at, "He could have made Dean or Seamus Prefects. They both stay out of trouble more than any of us do, but he chose one of us. To spy!"

Neville went back to reading a copy of a strange magazine called the Quibbler, uninterested, while Harry gave thought to Neal's conspiracy theory. If Dumbledore were thinking along those lines, he doubted it was to pan out Marauder secrets. Even with the amount of trouble and pranks they were able to create over the last four year, Harry couldn't imagine Dumbledore cared to know about secrets kept by teenagers.

"He doesn't need a spy," Harry repeated, then shrugged. "Maybe he thinks making Ron a Prefect will keep us all out of trouble."

"Or maybe," said Ron, turning red with anger instead of pink from embarrassment. "He made me a Prefect because I _deserve_ to be one."

"Nah," said Neal, without missing a beat. "Can't be. If that were it, it would have gone to Neville."

"You're just jealous someone manage to beat you at something," said Ron, darkly.

"Oh yeah?" Neal got to his feet, without any anger. Instead, he was grinning. "Want to see who wins when it matters?"

"Sit down, _relax_," said Harry. He didn't want his fifth year to start off with a fight between two of his best friends.

"No – he obviously thinks he's better than us now. Let him prove it."

Neville cleared his throat and very deliberately checked his watch. "Hey, Ron, aren't you about to be late for that meeting?"

With a nod and a face full of relief, Ron stood and exited their compartment without any more words. After he was gone, Neal collapsed back into his seat with a huff and Harry felt as though they had just avoided a very messy situation. He knew the peace wouldn't last forever, though. He needed to think of a way to sort things out if the four of them would ever be in the same room together again.

"What's gotten into him anyway? Got a badge and suddenly he's turned into Percy."

Harry shrugged, but silently agreed with Neal. Ron being a Prefect would complicate things for them this year. Could they really even trust him now? What if he started revealing past indiscretion? He wondered if Hogwarts had a statute of limitations. But Ron wouldn't rat on them, would he? If there was something Harry counted on, it was that he could trust his friends.

"I don't think it's such a big deal," said Neville, "It might give us an advantage, you know. Having a Prefect on our side. It's more than Malfoy's got."

"Which Slytherin got the badge, then?"

"Riddle."

"Oh," said Harry.

This news didn't matter much to Harry, but he imagined it mattered a great deal to Malfoy. He and Riddle hated each other since their first year, since Malfoy made a sneering comment about him not belonging in Slytherin. Malfoy mistakenly called him a Mudblood, thinking he was a Muggleborn. Tom Riddle corrected him by winning a duel, and hadn't let Malfoy forgot his mistake since.

"We shouldn't trust him," said Neal, bringing the conversation back to Ron. "We have to cut him out."

Harry frowned. "That's a little extreme."

"Or we could make sure not any of us can spill out any secrets," offered Neville.

"Yeah," said Neal, brightening up. "Like an insurance policy."

Harry didn't ask what an insurance policy was. He figured it was yet another Muggle concept he wouldn't understand, and ignored it completely. Being a Muggleborn, Neal sometimes forgot his friends wouldn't know some of the things he talked about.

The rest of the train ride Neville, Harry and Neal explored options. They talked about everything from contracts with enchanted quills to darker, serious bits of magic which included blood curses. Eventually both Neal and Neville left the final decision to Harry, who they insisted, as the holder of the Marauder's Map, was the official leader of their group. He didn't try to point out this was only the case whenever a difficult decision needed to be made.

After minutes of silence, Neville had gone back to reading the Quibbler and Neal had passed out, his face pressed against the window, Harry felt oddly curious about the book sitting next to him. He put into his lap and opened to a random page which featured a Charms question he couldn't think of the answer to.

With a groan, he slammed the book shut, causing Neal to spring upwards from his nap and Neville to look away from his magazine. They shot curious looks before going back to what they were doing, and Harry, as though he were afraid of it, put the book back onto the seat. He'd have more time for studying later.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for those who review, follow and favorite! Next chapter will be up within a couple of days.


	5. Soon

Chapter Five: Soon

"Malfoy!"

The blonde haired boy turned his head, perhaps expecting to see friends, but scowling when he instead saw Potter, Buckley and Longbottom approaching from behind. He craned his head above the crowd of students, searching for backers, but came up short. The only other Slytherin nearby was Tom Riddle and he'd sooner denounce his own house for Gryffindor than help him fend off the Marauders.

For safety measures, Draco pulled his wand from his robes and kept it gripped tightly in his hand. It things were about to get ugly, which they so often did when it involved Potter and Buckley, he'd better be prepared.

"Have a nice summer, Malfoy?" asked Potter as him and his friends sped through the crowds, getting ahead of the rest of the students as if it were a race. Malfoy dodged a trip jinx as the three passed him by and watched with much annoyance, maybe even a little jealousy, as other Hogwarts students moved out of their way automatically.

"Don't worry, Draco. Everything has its season, and theirs is almost over."

"Riddle," he said, shocked. "You're talking to me?"

"Everything has its season," he repeated, walking up to the castle by his side. "We've been enemies long enough"

Draco narrowed his eyes, not quite sure he could trust the other boy. Something felt wrong. Surely this was a trap, some attempt to catch him off his guard and make him look like an idiot. After all, Potter and Riddle were almost the same people in his eyes. Though Riddle took a Slytherin, calculated approach while Potter was a showy, typical Gryffindor.

Seeing his suspicion, Riddle smiled politely and nodded his head at him. "See you in class."

He watched him gain ground through the crowd, disappearing the same way the Marauders had.

* * *

Harry and his friends waited for Ron in the Entrance Hall. In their haste to be among the first to arrive at the feast, they had forgotten one of their members behind in the train. Though they weren't entirely to blame. Ron never returned to their compartment after his meeting and they never had the chance to talk about their need for what Neal kept calling an 'insurance policy.'

He stood on a bench and watched the crowd, momentarily thinking he sighted Ron, but shortly realizing it was only Fred and George. The seventh years saluted him before marching into the Great Hall, never late to a feast. Pulling his copy of the Quibbler out of his robes, Neville took a seat, realizing they'd be there for a while. Neal snatched it from his hands.

"What's with it with you and this thing?" he asked, flipping through the pages but never settling on one to look at.

"Luna gave it to me," said Neville, shrugging. "Her dad's the editor."

"Loony Lovegood?"

"It's Luna," Neville grabbed his magazine back and pushed Neal so hard he collided with a student passing by. The Head Boy, Cedric Diggory, glared and straightened out his robes as Neal stepped back, giving the same look to Neville.

"Watch where you're going, Buckley," he said. Diggory rejoined his friends, a few Hufflepuff seventh years and disappeared from sight.

Harry jumped down from the bench, unsuccessful in his search for Ron. "He's probably already there, saving us seats."

The other two boys nodded and followed Harry into the Great Hall, where they found Ron sitting next to Hermione Granger, deep in conversation. From somewhere unknown, Harry felt a surge of anger come over him, and instead of looking amused like Neal and Neville, he sat down across from Granger and Ron wearing a frown.

"Finally," said Ron, breaking out of his conversation with Hermione. "What took you guys so long?"

"We were waiting for you," said Harry, trying to wipe any evidence of being upset from his face and voice. It was only then he let his eyes fall on the other Gryffindor fifth year Prefect. "Hello Granger."

"Potter," she said, cordially but not quite polite.

She had her reasons for being frosty, and Harry knew them well. She and the Marauders hadn't gotten off on the right foot. From the beginning, she complained that their foolish pranks and sometimes crazy antics gave Gryffindor house a bad reputation. As first years, this made Hermione Granger a primary target for their pranks, and although they stopped pranking over as they grew older, she still held an ugly opinion about them.

Harry didn't have a clue as to what she and Ron were doing talking to each other, looking as though they were actually enjoying it. Maybe it had something to do with Ron being made a Prefect, and Harry begin to suddenly wish he'd been given the badge instead of his friend. Didn't he get the better marks? Wasn't he the star of the Quidditch team? Didn't those qualifications matter to Dumbledore at all? When the Headmaster took the front of the Great Hall to give his speech, Harry glared daggers at him, unnoticed.

* * *

Long after the feast had ended, Harry, Neville, Ron and Neal snuck down to the kitchens. A Marauder's tradition, and this time it was made all the more special. It took Harry all of thirty minutes to write up something he titled The Marauder's Agreement. The enchantment he used to bind the secrets of their group within the parchment proved to be a bit trickier, but he figured it out in record time.

"So," said Neal, with a breath, looking over the parchment. "What'll happen if someone snitches?"

Harry shrugged. "It'll be a surprise."

Neal looked as if he were about to protest. He never liked to be left out of Marauder business, but before he could audibly complain, Harry took the parchment and gave it to Neville, who let Ron read it from over his shoulder. They both agreed, and eventually Neal did as well, despite being left in the dark about the consequences of a Marauder fallout.

Harry was the first to sign followed by closely by Neal. Neville apprehensively bit his bottom lip before signing his name, no doubt analyzing every aspect, but not daring to sound his worries about this idea out loud. Ron squibbed his name quickly and handed the parchment back to Harry without giving it a second look.

"There," said Harry, rolling it up. "Now is everyone satisfied? Can we all move on and get back to the things that really matter? Like getting even with the Slytherins?"

The sting of last year's Quidditch game still hurt and Harry was more prepared to take the rivalry off the pitch. Neal and Ron each gave one another an awkward glance before nodding their heads eagerly. With sly grins, the four boys sat in a circle on the floor of the kitchens, House Elves choosing to ignore their presence for now, plotting.

* * *

Tom Riddle didn't sneak.

He was above wandering around the corridors at night, worrying over being found by a Professor or worst, the poor excuse of a caretaker, Flich and his cat. Instead he walked with confidence, with his head up and a Prefect badge pinned on his robes. At least now he had a proper excuse if he did happen to be caught.

When he arrived at the second floor it was nearly midnight and sure he was the only student with enough nerve to break curfew the first night of school. Riddle was wrong, something he disliked profusely. He was almost to the door of the girls' bathroom when he heard them. Potter. Buckley. Weasley. Longbottom.

Riddle moved away from the door and back into the shadows to avoid being seen, comforting himself with the fact that soon the Basilisk would cleanse Hogwarts of the four of them. And Mudbloods, a bonus for his trouble. He waited until their voices disappeared to return to the dungeons.

He couldn't open the chamber now. Not tonight, not after being so close to being seen. Not now, but soon.

* * *

A/N: So, this chapter was different. I wanted to set up a little bit and get different perspectives. Next chapter we get to see Snape and Slughorn for Defense and Potions!

Also I won't be updating this story as quickly as usual since I'm alternating between this one and a new story. I'm still shooting to update weekly, though, if my schedule permits.

And as always, thanks for reading!


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